For Hannah
by Malteser24
Summary: A special birthday celebration for my bestest friend Hannah. (For-Longest-Days-And-Nights) Featuring Kickthestickz, Romione, Malec, Sizzy.
1. Fear The Future

***Malec***

**Song Fic based off Fear the Future by Emma Blackery**

**DISCLAIMER**

**I do not own Fear the Future; the song, all credit and lyrics belong to Emma Blackery. I do not gain any profit from this. **

**I do not own any characters in this related to Cassandra Clare, or The Mortal Instruments.**

**The Mortal Instruments characters belong to Cassandra Clare; I do not gain any profit from this. **

Magnus Bane was lonely. He was lonely, and he was dismal, and he missed his Alec. The shadowhunter had left for Idris 2 weeks ago, and wasn't expected back for at least 10 days. Some demons had escaped an old Pyxis box, and being the eldest Lightwood, he was required to travel to Alicante to fill in on the jury as his mother was sick. His father, being Inquisitor, couldn't take over himself. Alec had told him as much, the day before he had left, as he packed his things into a bag. Magnus had protested. Isabelle can go; he tried to tell him, you don't always have to be the one that goes. It's my duty, was Alec's reply, and they ceased to speak on the matter after that.

Magnus could go with him sure. In fact, he was supposed to, a case like this requires all members; including Downworld representatives. Unfortunately for them, Magnus had a string of clients requesting his assistance and expertise. Catarina had taken his place, and had promised to keep an eye on Alec, but that hadn't lessened Magnus' worry or decreased his need to be with Alec, by his side.

He had left the loft for a walk, deciding being outside with the cold air whirling around him would be easier in his quest to clear his head and forget about his lover than it was being inside surrounded by things that were Alec's. Even Chairman was miserable, his gloomy whines and incessant meows of discontent reflecting the moods of his owner. It probably didn't help that Magnus had been, on occasion, forgetting to leave food out. Alec was usually the one to do it when Magnus was overwhelmed with work, so Magnus had regrettably dismissed the kittens calling. He had been fed eventually, but had been resolute in his choice to ignore Magnus from there onwards.

Magnus was brought out of his line of thought when he ran into a park bench. He sat on said bench, rubbing his leg where he had hit it. He sighed, placing his head in his hands. The pain in his leg was fading away, his magic healing the injury subconsciously, but his heart still ached with a painful longing. The last time he had been this far away from Alec, and for this long, hadn't been an easy one. It was a dark time that both had resolved never to speak of again.

He turned his attention towards the ring on his left hand. Blue topaz, set in a rose-gold band, with the inscription _Forever our hearts are linked_ engraved on the inside, it was the most beautiful thing he owned, and his most cherished. Their wedding wasn't long away, just under two months. They had both been stressing about it, and Alec's trip away and Magnus' clients weren't making it any easier. Isabelle had been adamant in her offer to help, and Clary had been pitching in as well, but with it so close Magnus wanted his fiancé by his side. Alec had at one point discussed staying home, letting someone else deal with it, Jace maybe, but Magnus had insisted. Jace was in Los Angeles with the Blackthorns and Emma, and was already preoccupied. The backlash from the Clave would be more trouble than Alec staying would be worth. What they didn't expect was for the case to take this long.

"I've missed you, Magnus." His mind registered the familiar voice immediately, but he couldn't quite comprehend his thoughts.

"Magnus, it is you, isn't it?"

He leaned back, his head resting against the back of the bench.

"It's me. The question is, is it you?"

He felt hands rubbing along his shoulders and down his chest, and heard a smooth voice in his ear.

"Of course it is. Did you miss me?" Black locks tickled his cheek, and he turned to face the speaker, a smile gracing his face.

"From the moment you left my sight. I'm glad you're back, care to join me?" He was answered with a kiss, short but full of meaning.

Alec sat down on his left, his runed arm settling on Magnus' leg. The warlock's arm went around the younger's body, and Alec leaned in close.

"You're back early."

"Yes. The Clave are still deciding on a verdict but the jury's decision was delivered so I decided to come home. I checked on Mum, she's okay. She promised me she would be on her feet within a week. _'I have to be better in time for your big day'_. You know what she's like. Determined is an understatement. And I got word from Jace, training is good. Apparently Emma is very talented. Raw talent and pure drive; were the words he used."

"That's good to hear. Things here have been okay, work was stressful, but I have it under control now. The loft is empty without you, though. Even Chairman's upset."

"So I should be expecting a hairball to the face when we get home."

"Very likely. But we don't have to go home just yet."

"Speaking of which, why are you out here? I got home and rang the doorbell but you didn't answer. If it wasn't for the mundane I overheard talking about _a 'tall, dark haired man with an outrageous coat and platform boots'_ I would never have found you. Did you not want to be hidden?"

"No, I must have forgotten to glamour myself. I barely remembered to lock the door; I was pretty deep in thought."

"You didn't."

"Pardon?"

"You didn't lock the door. I didn't open it, because of Chairman, but it was very clearly not locked. What has you so spaced?"

"I missed you. More than I thought, so it seems. It's two months until our wedding, and you haven't been here for over a fortnight, and I just really missed you. It's not the same without you around."

"I'm here now."

"I know." Magnus placed his hand over Alec's and they linked, fingers intertwined.

"While I was away, I did some thinking. About us."

"Alexander, you are not breaking up with me. Please tell me after all we have been through you are not leaving me." Magnus' tone was frantic, and anxious, and Alec hurried to calm him down.

"I'm never going to leave you, that is the complete opposite of what I am saying. Just, listen, okay?" Magnus nodded.

"When I was thinking about us, I was thinking about us as a couple, and us as people, and what we have been through, and how that's changed us. Since we have been together, I have grown. I'm stronger, emotionally, and happier. I'm more accepting of my sexuality, in that I accept the fact that I am gay whole-heartedly. It's who I am, and I wouldn't have it any other way. But I only realised that after I had met you. I used to fight, but not for all the right reasons. I fought because it was my duty, I was a shadowhunter, and that's all that needs to matter. I fought for Isabelle, and for Jace, and for Max." His voice cracked towards the end, and Magnus squeezed his hand, in reassurance he was there, his shoulder ready if he needed to cry.

_They say there's strength in numbers, but I was weak as one. But now that we're together, look how strong I have become._

"Now, I fight for so much more. I fight for Isabelle and Jace, certainly. And I always will. But now I fight for Clary, and Simon, Luke and Jocelyn, Emma, the Blackthorns. I fight for the future generation of Shadowhunters, so they have a better chance of living, so they don't have to hide away, so they don't have to deal with the things I did. So they can be themselves, be who they want without fearing prejudice and judgement. More importantly, I fight for you, for us."

_Now I fight for me and you. _

"That is the same for me, Alexander. I used to hide from trouble, staying out of issues, preferring to be on my own. Camille was the only enemy I had to deal with, but I assumed her dead. Then I met you. And everyone opposed to you, your enemies, we came to share. Valentine, Sebastian, they were my problem as much as they were yours."

_And the people who upset you, are now my enemies too. _

"When you were away and I was really missing you, I slept on your side of the bed, your sweater in my arms, taking in your scent. On the pillows, the clothes. Then I would go to sleep. Because I knew if I did that, I would a day closer to seeing you, touching you, kissing you. A day closer to holding you in my arms."

_And when I start to miss you, I go to sleep. And then, I'm another day closer, to seeing you again._

They fell silent, Magnus rubbing his fingers on circles on the back of Alec's hand.

"Have you ever, doubted it?" Alec asked suddenly.

"Doubted what, dear?"

"When we first got together, did you ever doubt your feelings? For me?"

"No, not ever. Why do you ask?"

"Well, we're getting married soon, so I figure it's best to get everything out now. I know it's been a long time, and I've grown in so many ways, but I do still have some insecurities. And I'm so different to you; different to everyone you've ever dated, ever loved. I just wonder if you..."

"You think I was taking pity on you back then." Magnus said, realisation setting in.

"In a way, yes."

"When I said to call me, I meant it. And I was genuinely upset when you didn't. I have meant everything I have ever said to you, and everything I will ever say, until my last breath."

"I'm sorry; I know I shouldn't have said anything. And I mean it now; you don't ask someone to marry you out of pity. It's not like I've ever, had anyone, loved anyone before you. It's always been a little hard for me to accept you love me for me, even as I am."

"Alexander." Magnus turned to face Alec completely, his hands moving to his Nephilim's face, thumbs softly stroking Alec's cheeks.

"Remember this, okay. Promise me, you will always remember this."

"I promise."

_And I want you to remember this, when you put yourself down._

"I don't want you to ever put yourself down. Never. You are the single most gorgeous, beautifully breathtaking person I have ever met. You're intelligent, charming, caring, a great kisser. A stunning lover." He dropped a wink, and Alec smiled, the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks.

"Not to mention you have a wonderful smile. Nevertheless, the most imperative thing you must remember is I don't fear my future anymore. I was so scared I would die alone, stuck in an endless loop of loving and losing, no constant person in my life who meant the world. Now I have you. You are my world, Alexander."

_I cannot fear my future, now that I have you around. _

_**(If you haven't already, please listen to the song. It's amazing, the whole EP is fantastic, and Emma is one of my favourite youtubers, so you should definitely check her out as well. :D Thank you for reading! )**_


	2. A Lightwood Family Feast

***SIZZY***

**IT'S ISABELLE'S BIRTHDAY. And you know what that means...fireworks, food and family fiascos. **

**DISCLAIMER**

**I do not own any characters in this related to Cassandra Clare, or The Mortal Instruments.**

**The Mortal Instruments characters belong to Cassandra Clare; I do not gain any profit from this. **

Isabelle Lightwood ran down the stairs of the New York Institute, sprinting across the floors, flinging open the huge, ornate doors. The grin upon her face spread from ear to ear.

"Simon." She said, breathlessly. She didn't train as much as she used to, she rarely got the time, so she wasn't used to running. But today was special.

"Isabelle, you did not have to run." Simon stepped forward, placing a hand on Isabelle's shoulder, for support and to feel her under his skin.

"I didn't want to waste anymore time not seeing you. I know you've only been gone a week but it's felt like a month."

"I've missed you too. Your smile, you're still as beautiful as ever."

Isabelle glanced down at herself. She was in pants and heels, a plain crisp top stark contrast against her dark hair; which had been put in a messy bun, a few locks falling down beside her cheeks. She didn't feel very pretty; she believed there might have even been bags under her eyes as well.

"Believe me when I say so, Isabelle. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met, and ever will."

"You're always so soppy when you come home."

"Love's a funny thing." He raised his hand from her shoulder, caressing her cheek, his thumb rough against her soft skin. He leaned in towards her, his lips brushing against hers. It started slowly, sweet and gentle, and would have gone for longer than a few seconds had they not been interrupted.

"Daddy!" Two shouts were heard, echoing around the room, bouncing off the stone walls. The shouts of two young boys.

Simon and Isabelle pulled away, Isabelle stepping back so Simon could greet his children, opening his arms to pull them both into a big hug. Isabelle stood off to the side, watching silently with a tender smile.

"What a nice greeting, though I'm a bit disappointed there's no banner."

"We didn't have time. We were busy learning." The eldest, James replied.

"Yeah. And Uncle Jace came over and we played pirates!" The youngest, Peter added. He had been named after Peter Parker, a helpful suggestion from Magnus that had brought a smile to Simon's face and a blush to Alec's; though he didn't tell anyone why.

"You played Pirates without me?" Simon asked, a hand to his heart in fake hurt.

"We can play with you; we can teach you how to play like Uncle Jace taught us." Peter said, excitedly.

"That sounds like a great idea. Do you think..." He said, leaning down so he was closer to their height.

"Should we get mummy to play as well?"

"Yes!" James and Peter yelled, jumping up and down happily.

Simon stood up, smiling himself, and Isabelle gave him a questioning look. He only shrugged in response.

"Well, Daddy's home now, so we better get ready; everyone will be here soon." Isabelle turned to Simon, her eyes glinting with mischief and glee.

"You can get them ready. I have some paperwork to finish off, I've had to meet with other Institute leaders this week, and they both need a bath. Good luck." She winked, walking off down the hall towards her office, heels clicking on the marble floor.

"Do we have to have a bath, Dad?" Peter whined.

"Yeah, do we? We had one yesterday." James added.

"Yes, you do. Otherwise _I_ will be in trouble with your mother, and she can be a very scary lady." Simon shut the door behind him, leading both boys up the staircase and to their rooms.

Clary wiped her arm across her forehead, probably smearing some paint in her hair. She placed the paintbrush down and stepped back to observe her work. Strong arms slid around her waist, a mop of golden hair brushing her cheek, the head connected to the hair resting on her shoulder.

"Beautiful." A low voice whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

"The painting or..."

"You. Well, the painting is amazing; but mostly you." Her eyes raked over the painting.

It was for Isabelle, an early birthday present. It was a portrait, a painting she had done from a photo. Everyone was there, Simon and Isabelle, their two boys; her and Jace, and their daughter; Alec and Magnus with their kids. Not everyone was smiling, her and Jace's child, Elise, had blinked when the photo was taken, and Alec and Magnus' youngest was crying in Alec's arms. Still, it showed them as a collected family and as people, real people; flaws included.

"You've always been good at painting, but this is exquisite."

"Do you think she'll like it?" Clary asked, nervously.

"She'll love it, honey."

"I hope so." She pulled away from Jace, pulling a cover of the framed painting. She didn't want it ruined; not when she had just spent an hour fixing up the last minute touches.

"We should get dressed; we'll need to leave soon."

"Are you saying we can't just go like this?"

Clary looked at Jace. He was still in shadowhunter gear, just getting back a few minutes ago from training young Shadowhunters. Clary herself was splattered from head to toe with paint, and she knew there was paint in her hair and by her ear.

"No, we can't. Elise is in her room, she's nearly ready, so we need to hurry."

"Right, because if we don't she'll do that _'omg you guys take forever, you're supposed to be adults.'_ Thing she _loves_ to do."

"Exactly."

Clary reached for his hand, dragging him to their bedroom, the cool metal of her rings contrasting the warmth of his hand. They'd been married for 12 years, and Jace still wasn't used to it; he found constant excitement when he saw her rings, his ring; when they were called Mr and Mrs Herondale, calling her his wife and he her husband.

Clary was dressed in a mid-thigh length gold dress, complete with white shawl and strapped heels. She had managed to get Jace to wear an actual suit, though he insisted on choosing the tie. _'Gold, to match your dress...and my eyes.' _

"Elise, are you ready?" Jace called, standing outside his daughters door.

"Yep." She opened the door, stepping out in a pink floral dress, her brown sandals tapping on the wooden floor. Her bright hair, red like her mothers, was in piggytails, pink ribbons holding them up.

"How do I look?" She asked, twirling around.

"Very pretty. That dress is perfect for Aunt Isabelle's birthday. Speaking of which, we need to get her present before we leave."

"Can I get it?" Elise asked, earnestly.

"How about you carry the card, and Dad can carry the painting. It might be too heavy for you to carry." Clary suggested.

"Okay."

She bounded ahead of her parents, skipping towards the dining table where the card she and Clary had made was waiting. Jace went to get the painting, and Clary grabbed her bag.

"Got everything?" She asked, once Jace and Elise had caught up to her.

"Yep." Elise said, nodding.

"Yes. Do you?" Jace asked, knowing how forgetful Clary could be.

"I do." They headed out the door, locking it on their way out.

It was a short walk from their apartment to the Institute, and for that Jace was grateful. He wasn't exactly weak, and he'd had to do a fair share of walking before; but the painting was bulky and Elise could be impatient when it came to walking.

Alexander Lightwood was getting increasingly frustrated. Magnus was late, though he understood that; the Clave wasn't always understanding and Magnus had reported it being a hectic week, but they had to go to Isabelle's party in less than 30 minutes and no one was listening to him. He was almost to the point of pulling all his hair out. He wasn't expecting _this_ when he and Magnus first discussed the idea having children together.

"Elizabeth Catherine Lightwood, get dressed already!"

"I _am_ dressed." His eldest daughter stood at the doorway of her bedroom, hands on her hips. (A habit she had picked up from Magnus.)

"I asked you to put some nice clothes on. _Nice_. It's your aunt's birthday, you could dress up."

"I'm dressed up." She was wearing a black top with the name of some mundane singer on the front, ripped jeans and ratty, worn out converse. The same thing she wore that day, and the day before. Well, the tops may have changed but that's about it.

"Wearing the same outfit for a week in a row does not count as getting dressed up."

"This isn't the same shirt." She replied, scowling at Alec as she pulled on the fabric.

"Please, just put something nice on. A lovely dress, maybe?"

"I am _not_ wearing a dress."

"Elizabeth, please." Alec was almost to the point of begging; something he didn't like to do.

"I am _not_ wearing a dress!" She repeated, slamming her door. Alec sighed deeply, pushing down his anger. He was running out of time, and he wasn't even dressed yet.

"Max? Are you ready?"

"Just a minute, Dad."

Alec walked into his son's room, to find him sprawled on his bed, gaming device in hand.

"You aren't even dressed? Have you even had a shower?"

"I've got plenty of time; just let me finish this level." His thirteen year old son replied, staring at the screen rather than looking at his father.

Alec looked at his watch. The time had dwindled down, leaving him 20 minutes to get everyone, including himself ready, and for Magnus to come home.

"We have 20 minutes until we have to leave. Your sister is giving me enough grief, let alone the stress your father is giving me by not being back, please just do as I ask?"

"Fine." Max saved the level he was on, turning the console off.

"And please put something clean and respectable on, it is for your aunt after all." Alec called back as he walked off to his own room.

He went to the closet, disregarding Magnus' flashy clothes for his own simple ones. Magnus had reduced the extravagance in the years, though he still enjoyed glitter and tight fitting clothes; not that Alec was complaining too much in _that_ department.

He had chosen his outfit; black jeans and a light blue button-up. Alec smiled to himself, recalling when Magnus had bought him the top, describing how it _'matched his eyes, made them sparkle.'_

Alec was just about to put the clothes on when he heard the sounds of a screaming child.

_Belle's awake._ He thought. He waited, to see if maybe, just maybe Elizabeth or Max would attend to the crying baby; but neither twin did. He groaned, throwing his shirt back onto the bed and stalking out of his room. He went to the nursery, where he was met with a red-faced six month old baby, screaming her lungs out.

"Hey, shhh. It's okay Belle, I'm here." He bent over into the crib and picked her up, rubbing her back soothingly, rocking her back and forth.

She didn't stop crying though, instead the volume increased, and Alec found himself close to tears. He slowly paced around the room, swaying and rocking Belle in hopes she would stop. The cries rang loud and clear, and it was rapidly becoming too much for Alec. Elizabeth wasn't listening, Max wasn't really helping, Belle was still upset and Magnus wasn't home. The stress and worry was becoming too much.

As if he knew what Alec was thinking, Magnus turned up at the doorway, the commission robes the Clave had insisted all council members wear hanging of his shoulders, his hair in disarray; his eyes sparkling. They didn't look like a cat's anymore, rather the normal green that had appeared when Magnus was wearing glamour; but that's what happens when you sacrifice your immortality for the one you love.

"Alexander, what's wrong?" He asked, the smile that _was _on his face disappearing quickly when he noticed the distressed state his husband was in.

"Everything! Elizabeth won't listen, Max only just started to get ready, Belle won't stop crying; I'm not even dressed, I didn't know when you were getting back and we're going to be late." Alec was in hysterics.

"Alexander..." Alec cut him off, the words flying out of his mouth so quickly, Magnus only just understood him.

"And I just realised I don't even have a present...I am the worst brother ever." The tears were falling now, and Alec furiously attempted to blink them back.

"You are _not_ the worst brother; trust me I've met siblings who've tried to kill each other, which I can't see you doing. Sebastian, for instance, was a bad, scratch that, horrible brother. Don't worry about her present, I've got it sorted. Here, give me Belle, I'll stop her crying, I'll dress her." Magnus said, holding his hands out, reaching for his daughter. He stepped closer to Alec.

"But what about you? And the kids?"

"I'm ready, don't worry about me. I'll sort the kids out; pass Belle over and get dressed."

"Are you sure?" Alec asked.

"Absolutely. Just promise me two things." Magnus took Belle from Alec, bouncing her up and down lightly in his arms.

"What?"

"Promise me you will stop stressing, and that you'll make yourself look beautiful."

Alec shrugged. "I can try, though I can't guarantee."

"You're right. You can't guarantee you will look beautiful; but I can. Because I know you will always look beautiful."

He reached a hand up to caress Alec's cheek, wiping away a stray tear.

"I love you." Alec whispered, smiling as through that one touch, that one look of profound love he saw in Magnus' eyes; all his worry and stress just floated away.

"As do I. Now hurry, or we will be late. We have the rest of our lives to confess our undying love." Magnus winked, and Alec hurried out and to their bedroom.

"Now Belle, you need to hush...and I need to dress you." He brushed her head, softly. She stopped crying, her anguished face replaced by a happy smile, a content giggle.

"That's better. What are you going to wear...?"

Magnus went to the brown, wooden drawers Luke had made for their daughter, and rummaged through the endless piles of baby clothes. Alec was going to yell at him for this too, he loved having things neat and tidy; the opposite of how Magnus did things. Still, it had been working out for 16 years; they couldn't be doing too badly.

He pulled out a little sundress. It was blue and green, with specks of yellow. Magnus put it on his daughter, careful when putting her arms through the sleeves. He'd dropped enough things in his time; he didn't fancy dropping his daughter too.

"Gorgeous. Now you're ready to go, my dear. Shall we see what your brother and sister are up to?" He asked her, grinning at her little face. She smiled and cooed back at him, making little baby noises and giggling.

"Such a cutie pie. I don't see why your father was having so much trouble, you're absolutely adorable."

He carried Belle to Max's room; the closest in the hallway.

"Max, are you all set?" Magnus called, nudging the door open with his hip.

"Yep. Is this okay? Dad seemed stressed out enough, I don't want to anger him."

Magnus' face softened, the care his son had for Alec warming his heart. He had tried to look his best, wearing a clean white top underneath a black vest, with the cleanest jeans Magnus had ever seen his son wear.

"It's perfect. You're dad will be so proud, now collect your things and meet me at the door; I'll get your sister."

Max nodded, turning to grab his DS and the card he had made for Isabelle. Magnus continued down the hallway, pausing carefully at his eldest daughter's door before knocking.

"Elizabeth? For fearing of enduring your rage...are you dressed?"

"Uh, kind of. You can come in, I need your help."

"I would, but I have a little child in my arms, do you think you could open it?"

He waited a beat, two beats, before the door was opened. Elizabeth stood at the threshold, bundles of clothes in one arm, her hair frazzled.

"Oh dear, you do need my help." Magnus stepped through, following her inside.

"I just, I can't find anything to wear. I want to look nice, and pretty for Aunt Isabelle, and for Dad, but I just can't find anything."

"Let me help, fashion is one thing I've always been good at." He handed Belle over to Elizabeth, and rushed to her closet, flinging hangers this way and that, discarding everything, until he found the perfect garment.

"This." He said, pulling the coat hanger out and holding it up for his daughter to see.

"Pop, that's...it's beautiful. I'd forgotten it was even there."

And it was beautiful. It was long and flowing, thin spaghetti straps holding it up. The dress was a faint orange, colour that shouldn't work but did, somehow.

"And it will go perfectly with your tan jacket."

"Can I still wear my converse?" She asked.

"If you don't tell your father, I won't." Magnus said, winking. He took Belle from Elizabeth, turning around to face her as he walked to the door.

"Meet me in the lounge room when you're dressed, Max is already there." She nodded, and Magnus was just out the door when she called out to him.

"Thank you." She said, once he had turned around.

"Your welcome. Now get to looking pretty already."

He made his way slowly down the corridor to his and his husband's bedroom, knocking lightly on the door.

"Alexander, may I come in?"

"Of course, I'm nearly finished." Magnus opened the door, gasping despite himself upon seeing Alec before him.

Alec was wearing the blue top Magnus had bought for him, and the black jeans that were definitely Magnus' favourite. The top was tight in a good way, hugging Alec's biceps and abdomen, highlighting the lightly built muscles hidden beneath. The jeans hugged Alec's arse, and Magnus was never one to deny the beauty of Alec's backside. In other words, Alec was positively beautiful.

"What did I tell you? I knew you would look beautiful."

"Thank you. I just can't get my hair right." Alec was at the mirror, pulling his hair this way and that, struggling to get it to sit the way he wanted.

"So leave it. I like the scruffy look on you, it's very hot."

"Fine. But I'm not leaving it like this for you; I'm leaving it like this because I'm getting increasingly frustrated with it. Maybe you should focus on getting dressed yourself."

"Ah, but I am dressed." Magnus placed Belle on the bed, setting her against the pillows; removing his robe, to reveal black dress pants, a dark green shirt beneath a black dinner jacket.

"I got dressed before I left, hence why it took so long. I apologise for that too, I knew you would be stressed out so I figured the less you had to worry about the better."

"And that's yet another reason as to why I am in love with you." Alec said, stepping towards him.

"Only one?" Magnus questioned, his hands finding their way to Alec's hips.

"Well, you are pretty easy on the eyes yourself; but you already knew that."

Alec tilted his head up, joining Magnus' lips as they made their way closer. They kissed slowly, and if it wasn't for Alec's quick mind they never would have left each other's hold.

"Magnus, we have to go." Alec mumbled against Magnus' lips. Magnus huffed, stepping back, moving his hand from Alec's hip to hold his hand, their fingers automatically locking. Alec picked Belle up from the bed, nestling her in the crook of his elbow.

"The things I do for your sister." Magnus grumbled, leading Alec out the door.

"She's technically your sister as well."

"In-law." Magnus replied.

"Speaking of which, have you got her present?"

"I said leave it to me. But, a word of warning, when she does get her present, please act like you knew about it; it would make things a lot easier."

"Or you could just tell me." Alec prompted.

"I could, but I won't." Magnus winked, turning around the corner to face the slightly annoyed expressions of their tweenage children.

"_We have to hurry. We can't be late_." Elizabeth said, her arms crossed; speaking in a mock impersonation of Alec.

"Nice to see you guys are ready. Can we go, or do you need to kiss...again?" Max asked, looking mildly annoyed.

"Careful now, or I may just snog your father right here in front of your eyes." Magnus said, a glint in his eyes.

"Magnus..." Alec said, warningly. He knew all too well what his husband was like, and he wasn't always able to stop him.

To prove his point, Magnus pecked Alec on the lips.

"Okay, I think we can go now, before we get any later. Kids, lead the way please. Magnus..." Alec looked up at Magnus, trying and failing not to get lost in his eyes.

"Just...behave. Please."

They left the house, and made their way; a troop of five walking down the streets of New York.

"What do you think?" Isabelle twirled around in her white dress, the flowing skirts swaying around as she moved. Her black boots tapped on the floor, a fine beat. Her hair was out and flowing, cascading down her shoulders, as long as ever.

Simon thought she looked beautiful; and he told her as much.

"Exquisite...fantastic...marvellous...stunning! There is not one person more beautiful then you on this earth; and never will there be."

Isabelle laughed, a soft chiming that bubbled out from between her lips. It was a beautiful sound, one that bought happiness and smiles to Simon when it floated into his ears.

"I only needed an opinion, _it's nice_ would have been enough."

"Maybe, but if I said that I would be lying." Simon said, stepping closer slowly, step by step.

"You are all those things and more. My clothes are _nice_, that mirror is _nice_, _Jace_ is nice. _You_ are magnificent, a picturesque figure against the blurred background of life."

"I never knew you could be so poetic." She replied, stepping forward to meet Simon.

His hands were nestled on her waist, holding her where her belt was strapped.

"I was a musician you know, back in the day."

"Oh, I remember. Playing coffee shops and school concerts...I suppose all the good musicians do that though."

"Most start of that way. Not everyone keeps doing it though; not everyone stays a musician."

"Like you. From mundane music player to daylighter vampire; and then to shadowhunter, husband and brother-in-law to the three best Shadowhunters of their generation." She lifted a hand to stroke his cheek, and he leaned in to the touch.

"Oh, how lucky I am. But I have to admit, I wouldn't have it any other way." She pulled him close, their noses rubbing. She brushed her lips over his, and he pulled them in, melding his lips against hers as if they were one, moving as one.

"Simon, everyone will be here soon." Isabelle mumbled against his lips.

"Let them wait; it's your birthday, there's no need to hurry."

"It's not my birthday yet. Besides, do you really want Alec walking in here?"

"He didn't enjoy it the last few times."

"No, he didn't."

"Then it will have to wait for tomorrow night."

"What's happening tomorrow night?" She asked, puzzled. Simon stepped back, waltzing to the door. He looked behind him.

"Tomorrow night you will be treated like a princess, treated to all the pleasures I can offer, all your desires fulfilled." He paused, watching her with as smirk as his words sunk in.

"Until then, as you said, the guests will be arriving soon. There's food to order, kids to check on, beds to make. I'll go see if the boys are ready." He walked off, giggling to himself. Isabelle stood at the mirror, cheeks flushed. She was almost ashamed. She was a shadowhunter, a Nephilim; of angel blood. And a bloody mundane born boy had made her heart race and muddled her mind.

What annoyed her the most was he still had that sway over her, after 10 years of marriage he could still make her somewhat weak in the knees.

"Beds are made, the kids are dressed, and they're just tidying their rooms up. The tables are set up; I even put some decorations out. I realise it's not as pretty as it would be had Magnus done everything, but I don't really have the same _finesse_ as he does..." Simon said as soon as Isabelle entered the room.

"Simon, I don't care. The beds could be messed, the tables could be bare and I wouldn't care. I get to spend my birthday, or more the night before my birthday; with my family, my children, and you. There's nothing I want more."

"I just want it to be perfect..."

"It's already perfect. And I appreciate the gesture, I really do; but there's no point stressing over it. The food is in the fridge, I cooked it earlier. You just need to heat it up."

"I thought you were just going to order some." Simon said, puzzled.

"I was, but then I decided I wanted it to be homemade, I wanted to cook it. I think it's about time I show my brothers I _can_ actually cook."

"You can cook." Simon encouraged.

"I'm better than I was. But they don't know that, I don't think they've eaten my food in years, certainly not since I learnt to cook."

Simon grinned. Isabelle stood next to him, one hand on her hip, a sparkle in her eye and smirk on her face. He'd always admired her determination and her desire to prove herself, and he kept seeing more evidence of her doing as such every day. It inspired him to do better in his own life.

Just then, the tinkling sound of the front door echoed around the large, expansive rooms. The light thuds of children's feet resonated around. Isabelle and Simon turned to each other.

"Kids heard the doorbell." Simon said.

"We should wait for them, shouldn't we?"

"Would be best, yes."

"I just hope they're not hungry. I love my family, but they can be very impatient at times."

Peter and James rounded the corner, skidding on the marble floors and nearly crashing into their parents. Simon and Isabelle caught them before they hit the table, balancing them on their own two feet.

"Careful, don't want to break anything." Isabelle said. She tried to be stern but couldn't help herself from smiling, even just a little.

"What's that in your hand?" She asked, gesturing to where James' arms were hidden behind his back.

"We know it's not your birthday until tomorrow, but we wanted to give you something now." James said.

He moved his hands from behind his back. In his arms lay a small flower crown, small enough to fit Isabelle's head perfectly. It was distinguishably homemade; the white flowers had been picked from a garden, strung together with black string. It wasn't plastic, it wasn't store bought. It was made from the heart and it was made with love; and it bought small tears to Isabelle's eyes, which she promptly blinked back.

"Dad and Uncle Jace helped us. We thought you could wear it today; we made it with this dress in mind."Peter added.

"Thank you boys, it's lovely." Isabelle placed the crown on her head.

The doorbell rang again, and Simon sighed.

"I'll get the door." He said, leaving to attend to the impatient guests.

"How did you know I was going to be wearing this dress?" Isabelle asked.

"We didn't. We hope you would, because we know it's your favourite. And Dad said that if you didn't he would convince you somehow." James replied.

"Aren't you all just really clever? Shall we see who's at the door?"

"Yes!" James and Peter both yelled in unison. Isabelle held their hands in her own and together they hurried to the door, reaching it just as Simon was opening the door.

Jace, Clary and their daughter Elise were standing outside. Jace held a large object in his hands, which he kept away from Isabelle.

"You're not to look at it until present time." He insisted, rushing inside to put it away. Isabelle hugged Clary tight. Simon greeted Clary next, Isabelle and the boys saying hello to Elise; who was excitedly jumping around everywhere.

Isabelle and Simon lead the others inside; meeting up with Jace on their way into the dining room. He stopped Isabelle in her tracks, holding her arm and kissing her on the cheek; wishing her a happy birthday. She thanked him, and questioned him about the present.

"Wouldn't you like to know? Too bad it's a secret." She slapped him on the shoulder.

"Do you know where Alec is?" She asked, thinking Jace might have talked to him before.

"No, I'm surprised we got here before him. I know Magnus likes to be 'fashionably late', but it's quite unlike Alec."

"I agree. Do you remember when we were kids; if we had to go anywhere, he'd always been urging us along, pushing us to hurry, even if it meant we were early. And if we didn't he would physically drag us out the door."

"Yeah, he stressed a lot about that. I can't see him stopping; unless Magnus has had more influence on him then we though." Jace suggested. Isabelle pondered the thought, but denied it almost immediately.

"No, we would have noticed by now. They're been married, what fourteen/ fifteen years?"

"About that, yeah. I suppose your right."

Believing it unlikely Alec would turn up right that second; the adults and the children sat down, chatting about everything. From the young Shadowhunters Jace was training to the flower crowns the kids had made.

They sat at the table for what was probably only ten minutes, but it felt like longer; on account of Isabelle insisting no one could eat until Alec and Magnus arrived.

The doorbell rang, and Isabelle jumped out of her seat.

"They're here, they're here!" She yelled, her excitement rivalling that of a six year old that'd been told they got to eat anything they want from a candy store.

She ran to the door, Jace and Clary close behind her. The children stayed at the table, talking and Simon rushed to the kitchen, to get the food ready.

Isabelle flung the doors opened, revealing a tired looking Alec, two near-bored twins, and a sleeping baby. Magnus had his hand raised, to knock on the door; she assumed.

**EDIT FROM HERE EDIT FROM HERE EDIT FROM HERE EDIT FROM HERE EDIT FROM HERE EDIT **

"Oh, Isabelle. I am so sorry; please tell me we aren't late?" Alec said, the words rushing out of his mouth.

"Alec...Alec!" Alec stopped talking, looking at his sister with worry in his eyes.

"It's okay. You're not that late; I'll admit I was surprised when Jace and his gang got here before you but I never suspected you not to come."

"What did I tell you?" Magnus asked Alec. Alec just shook his head.

"Sometimes I think you forget what your sister's really like."

He turned to Isabelle, grinning.

"I thoroughly apologise for our tardiness, I got back home later than I expected; and poor Alec was overwhelmed."

"That's okay. Angel knows I've been late before. Please, come in. It's much warmer inside; no point staying out in the cold." She stepped back to let them in, and Magnus bowed.

"Happy Birthday, dear." He hugged her, kissing her lightly on the cheek before stepping aside.

"Happy birthday Aunt Isabelle." Max said, stepping through and hugging her.

"Happy birthday." Elizabeth said, repeating Max's actions.

"Alexander, pass me Belle. I'll get her set up." Alec handed Belle over, and Magnus sauntered away, the kids close behind.

"He still does that hip wiggle, doesn't he?" Isabelle asked.

"He likes to sashay. Everywhere. I'm not even kidding. You should have seen him the first time I taught him how to clean. He frolicked with the broom, singing into it, as if it was a microphone."

"I might have to enlist his help cleaning here; just to see that."

"No need. I got him to do it again and recorded it. But sh, you can't tell." Alec leaned in, inches from Isabelle's ear. Her hair brushed his cheek.

"It's a secret." He pulled away and they both laughed.

"Happy birthday." He said, hugging her tight. She gripped him close, breathing in the scent of detergent, baby powder, and sandalwood. She still didn't like it, but altogether he smelled like Alec, a scent she had missed; one she never thought she would.

"Thank you. By the Angel, I've missed you. We don't catch up nearly enough as we should."

"I agree. But we both have busy schedules; you're running the Institute, I have three kids to look after..."

"We should sort something out. Anything, coffee date, training. I don't want us to drift apart."

"We won't." Alec said, pulling away.

"You say that, but we can't be certain. Not unless we try. I've nearly lost you too many times Alec; I'm not losing you if I don't have to."

"Okay. I'm sure we can work something out. I could come over here and help...if you don't mind a baby screaming a lot."

"Alec." Isabelle said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I have two kids, it's not like I haven't had to deal with it before."

"Your right, I'm sorry. It's just, the stress has been building and it's becoming too much to deal with."

"I know. I'm always right. But you don't need to deal with everything on your own. You have me, and Magnus, and Jace."

"But you all have jobs, things you need to do; lives of your own to live."

"We're not going to put our personal lives ahead of helping you out. You should know that by now Alec, honestly! Don't be such a fool."

"Am I really being that silly?"

"Yes. Maybe you're just getting senile in your old age."

"I'm only a few years older than you."

"The key word is _older_." Isabelle smirked.

"Hey Alec." Simon said, coming over to them. "Uh, are you guys done...arguing? Or whatever you're calling it. Cause...everyone's getting kind of hungry." Simon trailed off.

"Yeah. Alec's just being a grouchy old man. Come on Alec, if you're lucky you can have pudding for dessert." Alec hit his sister on the arm; and Isabelle just laughed.

"Oh, do lighten up. It's my birthday; be happy!" She whined. They walked to the dining room, Simon leading the quarrelling siblings.

"Remind me again why we need to meet up more? You haven't changed since you were 12."

"Thankfully you have." They reached the dining room, everyone looking up.

"Do you two have another fight? I told you they shouldn't be left alone." Jace said, wearing his signature _aren't-I-just-hilarious? _smirk.

"I'm surprised you and Magnus aren't at each other's throats." Alec remarked, greeting his parabatai with a firm hug.

"He's on good behaviour. Hello Alec." Clary said, getting out of her chair to hug Alec. They're relationship had improved greatly over the years; so much so they considered each other family.

"Keeping a tight leash on him, are you Clary?" Alec replied

Alec sat down next to Magnus; they're hands finding each other underneath the table.

Magnus leaned over to whisper in Alec's ear.

"I thought I was the one with leashes?"

Alec blushed, and Magnus returned to his previous position; grinning away.

"Aw, Daddy's blushing." Elisabeth teased.

"Careful. Wouldn't want to let slip about _Jeremy_."

It was Elizabeth's turn to blush, and everyone turned to stare.

"Oh? Who is this Jeremy your father speaks of?" Magnus asked, eyebrow quirked in a questioning look.

"He's...he's no one. Just a friend."

"Jeremy...not Jeremy Renner?" Jace asked.

"I don't know who you're talking about." Elizabeth said. She concentrated on feeding Belle; showing great interest in her baby sister's bottle. Magnus had handed her over before Alec go there. He was hesitant at first, but Elizabeth was adamant; insisting she would look after her sister during the night, to take the load off him and Alec; as an apology for how she had acted earlier. Magnus was very impressed. His daughter was growing up, and he couldn't be any prouder.

"Jeremy Renner indeed." Alec said, finding enjoyment in his daughter's embarrassment.

"I know him; he's in my class. Very good with a bow; nearly as good as you Alec."

"No one could have the as good an aim as Alec." Isabelle added.

"Oh, I don't know, Iz. You should see him in action; that kid can shoot."

"Do we have to keep talking about this?"

"Yes." Alec said.

"Why?"

"Because we're your family and teasing you is part of the job description." Isabelle said, sympathetically placing a hand on her nieces arm.

Sensing his daughter's discomfort, Magnus attempted to change the subject.

"I don't know about anyone else, but I'm starving." Magnus said, rubbing his hands together.

"Well, best I get the food." Simon said, getting up from the table and rushing to the kitchen.

"So, Isabelle...what disastrous meals have you concocted up for us today?" Jace asked.

"I'll have you know I'm better at cooking now. I don't burn _anything_ anymore."

Alec nudged Jace, catching the blonde's attention.

"I have a _Steele_ in my pocket if she poisons us." He whispered loudly, making sure Isabelle could hear him at the other end of the table.

"I'll choke and make dying noises if I need an _iratze_." Jace replied. They laughed, the sounds mingling into a happy harmony.

"If you're not careful, you'll need more than an _iratze_."

"Now she's threatening us. Do you think we should be scared?" Jace was smirking, and Isabelle wanted to wipe the stupid grin off.

"No, she's harmless. I'm more scared of her cooking."

Both men would have needed an array of _iratze's_ had Simon not entered the room with the food; saving them from Isabelle's harming wrath.

It wasn't an extravagant meal; it wasn't flashy or covered in numerous ingredients that would only disguise the true taste.

It was almost a banquet, however; bowls of pasta, and salad; bread rolls and steamed vegetables. Various bottles of wine sat in the middle; light from the candles bouncing off the chilled glass.

"Tonight we feast." Magnus said.

"Tomorrow we starve." Alec said

"The next day we feast again." Magnus finished.

"What was that from?" Simon asked, sitting down between Clary and Isabelle.

"A book series; it's about a gypsy family who have to save their family from prison during Oliver Cromwell's reign." Alec said.

"Sounds kind of boring." Jace muttered, scooping some pasta into his bowl.

"There's a dancing bear, and a monkey called Zizi who wears a tutu and steals food." Magnus said.

"That's more interesting. Maybe I should read it."

"When pigs fly." Alec replied.

Jace mumbled something incoherent, and everyone got stuck into the food, putting this, that and this again, creating piles of delicious food.

They ate in mostly silence, occasionally muttering inarticulate expressions of delight; senses exploding with simple but wonderful flavours.

Once the main meal was finished, the kids all exclaimed their thoughts on the food.

"Hey Mum, could we show the girls our new stuff? It's been a while since they were over." James asked.

"Hey!" Max exclaimed, annoyance clearly showing.

"Sorry. The girls and Max."

"Sure, we'll call you down when it's time for dessert." Isabelle said, smiling as the kids yelled and screamed, practically jumping out of their chairs and running to the stairs.

"Try not to break anything!" Simon called, his voice lost in the sound of happy children.

"Does it get better?" Simon asked no one in particular.

"Does what get better?" Magnus inquired.

"Kids. As they grow up, does it get any easier?"

"No." Alec replied without hesitation. Everyone, including Magnus, turned to him, dubiously.

"Don't get me wrong." Alec hastily added.

"I love our children, truly I do. And I would not change them for the world; but they don't always make things easy. More times than not they make it hard, stressful."

Magnus squeezed Alec's hand, sensing the hidden meaning, the unspoken words.

"I suppose that's love though. And they can be very helpful. When she is in a good mood, Elizabeth is very helpful with Belle."

"So, what you're saying is when our kids hit teenagers we should send them to you?" Jace asked, slyly.

"That is the opposite of what I'm saying."

"What Alec's saying, is looking after kids is not supposed to be easy, but you deal with each day as it comes and overcome whatever obstacles are thrown your way." Clary added, speaking up after being silent most of the night.

"See, Clary understands. I always knew she was smarter than you, Jace." Alec laughed, which brought a smile to Magnus' eyes; to see his husband happy brought him the most joy.

"Having children is a lot like being in love. You would do anything for them, help them through troubles, hold them tight in the middle of the night; and yet at other times feel ready to strangle them." Magnus said, his voice soft.

"In the end, you can't leave them." Isabelle added, glancing at Simon.

It was true; they had all had problems with love, with each other, with family. But in the end love had prevailed and they all survived.

"Uh, so...cake anyone?" Simon asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Things hadn't started out very well for him and Isabelle, and hadn't continued too well either. But then, it hadn't for any of them. Everything turned out fine, in the end.

"What type of cake?" Clary asked politely.

"Such a secret cannot be told." Simon said, glancing quickly at Magnus.

"Simon, would you like some help with the...candles?" He asked, standing up quickly, smoothing out his jacket.

"Ah, yes. Please." Simon nodded before rushing to the kitchen, Magnus close behind him.

"Do you know what that was about?" Isabelle asked Alec.

"No." Alec replied, shaking his head, his confused expression matching Isabelle's.

"They've both always been strange, if we're being honest." Jace said, nonchalantly.

"Hey!" Isabelle yelled, at the same time Alec asked, "Excuse me?"

"Look, I'm not trying to offend either of you, but your partners are not exactly 'average' people, are they."

"Are any of us?" Isabelle questioned.

"No. I suppose not. I mean i was once filled with heavenly fire..."

"Jace, the kids will need to be told about the cake..." Clary said, hinting.

"I'll go get them." Jace said, standing up from his chair.

"That would be a good idea." Clary agreed.

Simon walked into the room, cake in hands. It was a normal sized cake, chocolate with strawberries and cream on top. He had added candles, 16; the warm glow brightening his face and heating his skin.

One important thing that no one, especially Alec missed. Magnus was not behind him, nor anywhere to be seen.

Simon gingerly placed the cake on the table, careful not to light the tablecloth on fire. Balance runes don't prevent clumsiness.

"Where's Magnus?" Alec asked. He was reminded of Isabelle's present, how Magnus has promised it was sorted. He hoped Magnus hadn't forgotten it; they would both be in trouble then.

"He's...uh...he got a call. From a friend. He won't be long though." Simon started hastily dimming the lights.

"Catarina? Why would she be calling at this time of night?" Alec wondered aloud. Just then, Jace returned, the kids trailing close behind him. They all crowded around the table. Simon handed Isabelle the knife, and she poised it above the cake, tip pointed down. Magnus slipped into the room unnoticed, standing silently behind Alec.

"Did Catarina call?" Alec whispered.

"No. I was getting Isabelle's present sorted..." Magnus replied, a little confused.

"But Simon said...Oh."

Isabelle cut the cake, the knife sliding smoothly. She touched the bottom, deliberately, before removing the knife.

"You touched the bottom, you touched the bottom!" Elise squealed.

"Now you have to kiss the closest boy." Elizabeth said.

The boys ran away, standing the end of the table, as far away from Isabelle as possible. This left Simon the closest boy, Alec not far behind that.

"Come here and give me a birthday kiss." Isabelle said. Simon pecked her delicately on the cheek, his soft lips brushing her cheek.

"Cake time!" Peter yelled, and everyone laughed at the little child.

Isabelle cut a slice for everyone, the boys returning to their seats once cake was promised. They all ate dessert quietly, apart from small exclaims of delight.

"Even more of a delicious cake. You've really outdone yourself." Magnus said.

"Thank you, but the cake was all Simon. I'm pleasantly surprised as well."

"Had to be perfect, it's for you." Simon whispered in her ear.

"Present time!" Jace exclaimed, trying to turn the conversation away from soppiness by rushing to retrieve the large object hidden by a thin sheet.

"Magnus!" Alec hissed, slightly irritated by the fact that Magnus wasn't panicking; nor was there any evidence he had a present on him.

"I said it was sorted. Stop panicking or she'll notice."

Jace carried the present over, Simon hurriedly cleaning the plates away, Elizabeth and Max helping him. Jace held the painting up, to make it easier for Isabelle to reveal it.

She pulled the cloth away slowly. She had suspected a painting from the moment Jace had bought it in; it wasn't surprising, Clary was a marvellous painter, it made sense for their present to be a painting.

She wasn't expecting what she found. A painting of them all; but one so beautiful, so perfectly made. She could see all the little things; like the freckles on Elise' nose, Belle's scrunched up eyes mid cry; the small smile creases near Simon's eyes, lines so thin you could only see them if you really looked. It was the best painting she had ever seen, and she found herself crying.

Simon rubbed her back, and everyone ran to hug her. She hugged them back tight, a little annoyed in herself for crying. She was supposed to be strong, fierce; not crying in front of her extended family.

That's what family does though. Brings tears to your eyes then hugs them away.

"Clary, it's beautiful. I knew you were good at painting but I've never seen anything so wonderful. Thank you so much."

Clary hugged her tighter, pulling away after a few beats, a grin on her face.

"I'm glad you liked it. You deserve the best on your birthday."

"I carried it in." Jace added, feeling a little left out.

"And you did a wonderful job. Really, thank you all."

"Aunt Isabelle." Elise said, her little voice quiet against the chatter of the room.

"Yes, dear."

"I made you a card." She held it out, a large canvas in her small hand, and Isabelle took it.

"Thank you." She opened it up, and read the message. The card was pink, covered in glitter; sparkling gel writing scribbled across the surface. Isabelle thought it was positively adorable.

"I love it, thank you." She bent down and hugged the little girl, careful not to squeeze her too tight.

"Max and I also wrote you a card." Elizabeth said, handing it to Isabelle. It wasn't pink, and it wasn't covered in glitter or gel but it was written from the heart. She and her brother had written their names on the side, Elizabeth finishing her's off with a small heart.

"Thank you both. I love it." She hugged them, Max sighing a little before hugging back. He could never say no to his aunt, and especially not to her hugs.

"If you would like to follow me, my dear. It is time I show you your present." Magnus said, indicating towards the front door. Isabelle looked confused, as did Alec, but Magnus simply smiled slyly.

"Simon, if you would..." Simon reached for Isabelle's hand, and led her to the door, the others close behind. The stood outside, just in front of the gate.

"Today, or rather really tomorrow, is a special day for you Isabelle. Over the years I have grown quite fond of you, I'd even go as far as to say I consider you my sister; which is a title not many people hold." Alec glared at his husband, but Magnus simply continued.

"As a way of expressing this, I've decided to use some of what's left of my magic to provide you with this display of affection."

He pointed to the sky, his fingers warming up with the familiar blue sparks he had come to miss, and shot them up into the night. They turned into fireworks, of every imaginable colour. They surrounded words; words that once read brought such a wide grin Isabelle thought her face was disappearing behind it.

_Happy Birthday Isabelle! _

He pointed again, and the sparks flew to create a heart. They stayed up there glittering, before dissipating at the click of his fingers; magic falling to the ground like tiny shooting stars.

"Magnus, that was fantastic, thank you." She hugged him, and he hugged her back.

"All for you my dear. Though that was a bit tiring, it was worth it."

Alec silently reached for Magnus' hand, sending strength he knew the other needed.

"But, of course, there's more."

"More?" Isabelle questioned.

"That was a single moment's effect. You deserve something that will last you forever. Elizabeth?"

She walked over to her aunt and handed her a white box, a simple red ribbon decorating it.

"I hope you like it. Pop and I picked it out ourselves."

She opened the box, gasping at the contents. It was a beautiful scarlet dress; floor length, thin gold bands at the top; a small gold chain looped around the waistline. It reminded her of a Greek dress she had seen in a movie Simon once made her watch, and she loved it immediately.

"It's gorgeous. It's beautiful...thank you so much. I can't wait to wear it!" She hugged them both in turn. She ruffled Max's hair and kissed his forehead, his arms to pre-occupied with Belle to properly hug her.

"Alec, come here." She hugged him longest, nearly squeezing the life out of him.

"I didn't have a say in it though. I almost forgot about it." He said.

"I know. But you would have, and it's the thought that counts. Beside, you being here and always helping out is present enough."

The hug lasted a bit longer, until Jace cleared his throat.

"Sibling love is cute and everything but I'm freezing out here, can we please go back inside?"

They did, everyone trailing back into the warm house.

"The kids are in bed, safely tucked in. Lights are off, doors locked. Just you, and me." Simon said.

"Mmm, how nice." Isabelle walked up to him as he shut the door, her arms sliding around his thin waist.

She kissed him, gently pushing him against the door.

"I haven't given you your present yet." He muttered against her lips.

"It's not my birthday yet."

"But this is special." He pulled away from her, laughing lightly at the pout she wore.

"Sit on the bed and close your eyes." He whispered, heading over to closet. She did as he told, waiting impatiently on their bed.

She felt a bundle of cloth being placed in her hands.

"You can open them now." Simon whispered in her ear.

She opened them slowly, gasping when she saw what was in her hands.

It was purple, a deep purple; with black lace and trimming. Thin spaghetti straps, mid-thigh length. But the best part, was the thin silver ring sitting in the middle.

"Simon...it's beautiful. They're both beautiful." She slid the ring onto her right middle finger, the stone sparkling in the light. It was purple, and red; a mixture of the two.

Isabelle held the nightgown up, admiring the way it looked.

"I thought you could wear it tonight; so when you wake up tomorrow you're wearing something as beautiful as you." He said. She didn't speak, choosing instead to kiss him, soft and slow and perfect.

"Thank you." She stood up, swapping her dinner outfit for her new nightwear.

Simon put his own pyjama's on; pants, and they slipped under the warm covers, settling into their usual positions; her head nestled in the crook of his neck, her breath warm against his skin. He held her tight in his arms. They fell asleep quickly, light snores the only thing to be heard in the quiet room.

They were woken up early the next day, the sun only just rising outside their window, by two screaming children who promptly jumped on them upon entering. Simon immediately regretted not locking their door the night before.

"They would have just knocked loudly." Isabelle said when he told her.

"I suppose...ow." Peter had accidentally hit him during his excited jumping.

"Sorry dad." Peter said, laughing.

Isabelle managed to calm the boys down, so they were sitting on the bed; only bouncing a little.

"We got you presents!" Peter said.

"And we made our own cards." James added, proudly showing Isabelle. She smiled sweetly, taking her time in looking at the cards.

"They're wonderful, thank you boys."

"Now you have to open the present." James handed it over, and Isabelle had to suppress a giggle. The present was covered in what looked like metres upon metres of paper; and all she could see was sticky-tape. It took her 10 minutes, and some sharp scissors, but she revealed the present in the end.

It was toy clay sculpture, in the shape of a monster. It had ten arms/legs, 3 eyes, no nose, and spikes on its head. The tail was thin and long, and the whole thing had obviously been left in the sun; it was cracked and dry.

But they had made it from the heart, and Isabelle couldn't be prouder or happier.

"It's a monster." James explained.

"Like the ones you, and Dad and everyone fight." Peter said.

Isabelle would not cry, she wouldn't; so instead she gathered her boys in her arms, squeezing them tight.

"Thank you; it's the best present ever."

"What do you think boys, shall we make mum breakfast in bed?" Simon asked.

"Yes!" They clambered off the bed and ran out the door. Simon kissed Isabelle quickly.

"Happy Birthday." He said against her lips.

"Thank you."

"I love you."

"I love you more." Simon just shook his head and walked out the door, down to the kitchen to prevent his children from making a mess.

_This will be the best birthday ever_. Isabelle thought. And it was, because she had her boys, and she had her Simon; and in the end family was all she needed.


	3. Library Confessions

**ROMIONE**

***Set after Goblet of Fire* **

**Ron and Hermione knew they could tell each other anything. Harry already had too much to deal with; they knew all of each other's secrets. Except for one. **

**Disclaimer**

**I do not own any characters in this related to J.K Rowling, or Harry Potter.**

**All Harry Potter characters belong to J.K Rowling; I do not gain any profit from this. **

She was sitting at a table; a book in her hands, when he walked in. He wasn't surprised; he could always find her with her nose in a book these days. Maybe that's just how she coped; he knew better than anyone how hard things were for her.

After all, he was the one she spilled her secrets to; late in the night when everyone else was asleep. When the moon was high and the corridors silent, they would sneak into the common room and sit together on the couch; his arms around her, her head resting on his shoulder. He would wipe away the stray tears, hold her tight when the sobs racked her body, rubbed her arms, her back and brought her closer to the fire when her body started to shake in the cold.

"Another book, Hermione? Haven't you read enough?" She looked up, eyes bright. She smiled once she saw who it was; marking her place and shutting the book slowly, precisely; as she did everything.

"I'll never read enough books Ron, you know that." He pulled out the seat next to her and sat down.

"What brings you here, anyway?" She asked.

"I was looking for you." He shrugged.

"How did you know you would find me here? I could have been anywhere, Hogwarts is a big place."

"True. I can always find you here though. It's your safe place, remember?"

She nodded slowly. She remembered, she remembered exactly. She always did. She remembered his hand stroking her back, she remembered his soothing words; she remembered telling him how she always felt content and safe in the library; surrounded by rows and rows of books. She remembered telling him how she loved the scent of books, how they felt, how the words swam from the pages and into her mind.

She also remembered how badly she wanted to kiss him, under the shine of moonlight, the warm glow of the fire bouncing off his face. She hadn't told him that, of course. She was a sensible girl, and that would have been an impractical thing to do.

"Where's Harry?" She asked, trying to clear her thoughts.

"I don't know, I think I saw him by the lake; he's always down there these days." He shrugged again, and she simply nodded. She placed a hand on her book; unsure if the conversation was continuing or not.

Ron cleared his throat, and she looked over at him. There were light shadows under his eyes, his face looked drained and tired.

"Ron, have you been sleeping?" She asked, concerned.

"Yes. No. Sometimes. It's kind of hard these days, you know? Everything's just so hectic; no one even knows what's going to happen next." She nodded slowly. She knew as well as he did.

"I used to be so excited to come to Hogwarts. My parents went, Bill went, Charlie went. Percy was a stickler about it, but Fred and George always had these stories. They used to tell me about all the things they did, all the things they learnt. The pranks they pulled. I was so happy because I was going to learn how to fly on a broomstick; I was going to become a famous Quidditch player. There were just so many things I couldn't wait to do. I didn't expect all this, I thought going to Hogwarts would be fun but it's really just been stressful. I can't even recall the amount of times I've got injured, or just escaped death. This wasn't how it was supposed to be."

Hermione was stuck between a rock and a hard place. She wanted to hug Ron, to rub small circles on his back and whisper soothing words, to tell him that everything would be okay but she couldn't. She couldn't promise him that, because she didn't know. And what if she did hug him, and her heart fluttered. What would she do then? Hermione was very confused, and she didn't like it.

Unfortunately for her, there was a sniffling boy beside her, and she wasn't heartless. Logical and rational sure, but not heartless.

So she took a leap into the deep end, and extended her arm out, hugging Ron side on. He leaned in to her. She hoped Ron couldn't hear how hard and fast her heart was beating.

Not that she liked Ron. She didn't. He was her friend, nothing more. And she didn't want it to be anything more...did she?

"I can't say everything will be alright Ron, because I don't know. But I can promise you won't be alone."

He looked up at her, eyes shining with tears.

"Harry and I will stay by your side. That's what friends are for, aren't they?" The words rushed out, her cheeks heating up. It was just the room, it was too warm.

Ron nodded, but when she looked at him he looked sad, almost disappointed.

He removed himself from her hold, wiping his nose and eyes, sniffing quietly.

"I'm sorry; I got tears and stuff on your jumper."

"It's alright. It can always be washed. Are you okay?" She asked. Ron was being ridiculous. The state of her clothes didn't matter, not when he had been crying. Surely he knew that.

"I think so. Maybe, I don't know. I don't think I'm okay at all anymore." He stared at the table; his stare was so strong it looked as if he was trying to drill a hole in the wood.

"Ron, I can't help you unless you tell me. Is there anything else going on?"

Ron shook his head, then sighed deeply.

"Ilikesomeone." He mumbled; the words too quiet and rushed for Hermione to hear.

"Pardon? I didn't quite hear you, could you repeat that?"

"I like someone." He said a little louder, a little bit slower; and Hermione felt her heart fall. She ignored it.

"What is the problem then?"

"They don't know."

"So why don't you tell them."

"I don't think she likes me back."

"You won't know if you don't ask."

"She went to the Yule Ball with someone else. She doesn't like me."

"Why didn't you ask her?"

"I was too nervous."

"And you don't think she likes you back?"

Ron shook his head.

"I know she doesn't."

"I still think you should tell her."

Ron was silent, and Hermione started to worry she had said something wrong.

"It's you." His voice was quiet, so quiet Hermione was certain she had misheard him.

"Pardon?"

"It's you Hermione. You're the one I like; you're the one I was too scared to ask to the ball, you're the one who doesn't like me back." He stood up, his chair scraping back.

He started to run out of the library, and Hermione found herself chasing him. It was illogical, and if the librarian caught them they would both be in trouble for certain, but she realized she didn't care. Ron was running away and she needed to tell him how she felt.

"Ronald! Wait!" He stopped and turned, and she ran into him. He caught her, helping her stand up straight. She brushed and straightened her outfit, turning to him with a fierce gaze.

"You can't just say you like me and then run off. You're not a coward, and that is a coward's act."

"Sure I can. I am a coward, Hermione."

Hermione suppressed the urge to slap him; it was hard.

"You're not a coward." She repeated. "You're an idiot."

"I'm a...why am I an idiot?"

"Because you think I don't like you back."

She delicately placed a hand on his shoulder, and he just stared at her.

"You like me?" He asked.

"Of course I do." She said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. And, he supposed, it was.

He reached up and brushed a curl from her face, tucking it behind her ear. Her skin buzzed where his fingers brushed, and she sighed softly.

"May I kiss you?" He asked, his voice soft and quiet. She nodded, and he cupped her cheek in his hand. She leaned in to the touch. He pulled her close, slowly, and she let him. Their lips met, her lips soft and plump against his vaguely chapped ones. It was a little messy, as most first kisses are, but they both found it perfect.

"That was nice." Hermione said, when they pulled away.

"Yeah."

She looked around, noticing the lack of students.

"We should probably get back to the common room; we're the only ones left."

Ron nodded, and together they walked back to the dormitories, hand in hand.

That night they didn't whisper any secrets, but they did stay in the common room. Harry found them in the middle of the night, curled up on the couch; Hermione's head on Ron's chest. Harry smiled, pulling a blanket over them and stoking the fire, so it would last during the night.

_About time. _He thought.


	4. Storm Fort

**KICKTHESTICKZ**

**Chris and Pj plan to watch Doctor Who 50****th**** anniversary together. That night there is a horrid, raging storm, and Chris gets scared. Pj comes up with a plan, but what happens when the thunder gets worse? **

***************************DISCLAIMER****************************

**I do not own Doctor Who, its storylines or any of its characters. I do not gain any profit from this at all. **

**I also do not own Chris, Pj, Dan or Phil. They are their own people. I am not claiming this happened in real life. **

**Nor do I own Diet Coke. **

They had arranged months before, when they'd first seen it. They had both loved it so much; they planned a marathon starting backwards from it once it came out on DVD. They were going to watch The Day of the Doctor, then all of the Doctors in reverse. It would take them a few days, at least, but that didn't matter to them. Nothing sounded better than watching Doctor Who with your best friend.

That is, until Chris saw the weather report.

He'd lived in England all his life, so the rain and constant downpours never really bothered him. Storms, however, were a different matter. Storms made the rain worse.

It had all started when he was 5. He was having trouble sleeping, when a big storm cracked above his head. The wind rustled, the rain poured, the thunder erupted in loud booms. Worst of all, the tall tree next to his window swayed, the branches scratching against his window, screeching; like fingers across the glass. It hadn't been a fun night; it had instead created a seemingly life-long phobia.

No one but his parents knew about his phobia, and he had kept it secret in the past by cancelling plans if there was any hint of a storm. He knew it was childish, and he should be over the fear by now, but he still cowered under the covers every time.

Unfortunately, he couldn't back out this time. He had promised Pj ages ago, and he couldn't back out an hour before. He might have been able to get away with it, pushed it back a few days; if he had checked the weather that morning. He had focused on filming a new video instead, and once that was done, he couldn't stop thinking about how much fun he and Pj were going to have. While trying to push down his feelings for Pj, of course.

The crush wasn't a new thing; his feelings for the green-eyed boy hadn't snuck up on him in the middle of a night, or when he was shopping. It had grown and manifested over the years they had known each other. He knew there was something there, deep in his heart where he had thought love was lost for him; ever since he first looked into those gorgeous eyes. They had become friends through a shared love of comics and British TV shows. Doctor who had become the one love they shared completely, the one thing they would always talk about, time and time again. It didn't matter if they had discussed the same episode before. They had become theorists, discussing what they thought was going to happen, what each little thing meant. Chris had always enjoyed their time together, and didn't realise the fluttering in his chest wasn't nerves or excitement but rather fondness, affection, a more intense, past friendship-level care.

He'd contemplated, for all of about 5 minutes, telling Pj; but decided against it. The thought of losing their friendship over what he saw back then as a little old crush, was silly. And when it had elevated from a childish crush to what he'd say is love if he believed in such a thing, he pushed his feelings down. Nothing was worth losing his best friend over.

_*Speaking of which...*_

"Crap. I'm going to be late; I'm going to be late..." Chris jumped of the couch, grabbing his backpack; checking he had everything he needed. He grabbed his phone from the couch and turned the TV off, mentally swearing at the TV.

_Why does there have to be storms today, of all days?!_

He was almost down the stairs when he realised, that in his panic he hadn't locked the door. Cursing he ran back to his apartment, fumbling with his keys before eventually locking the door. He ran back down the stairs and left his house.

He caught a taxi to Pj's house, deciding it to be the better option than sprinting the way.

Pj opened the door before Chris even got a chance to knock, a giant grin on his face.

"I saw you out the front; I was just about to run outside."

"Well I'm glad you didn't, or we'd both be face first on the ground." Chris joked.

"I've missed you so much." Pj nearly bowled Chris over trying to hug him, and Chris stumbled backwards a bit. He wrapped his arms around Pj, holding him tight. He breathed in, taking in everything that made up Pj's scent. His hair, his sweater, everything smelt like _Pj. _The hug was over all too soon.

"Are you ready for Doctor Who?!" Pj yelled, dragging Chris into the lounge room.

"It's not like we haven't already seen it." Chris replied, laughing at the gleeful expression on Pj's face.

"I know, but it's still awesome. And nothing is better than a Doctor Who marathon with my best friend." He said, nudging Chris' shoulder. "Even if we've seen them all a bijillion times before."

Chris tried to ignore the dull stab in his heart at the word _friend_.

"You're right. It's going to be a lot of fun."

"Just put your bag down here, we can set up the beds and what not later. Are you hungry...do you want a drink?"

Chris set his bag down by the couch and turned to Pj.

"Well, are we having dinner now, or later?"

"We can have it now if you want, I'll order it now."

"Sounds good."Chris smiled, and Pj nodded, grabbing his phone.

They ordered pizza, and sat down with the boxes on the table, drinks in hand, and Doctor Who on the TV.

They knew the storyline, they knew what was going to happen and they knew _who _was going to be on screen; but they still laughed at the funny moments and gasped exactly like they did watching it for the first time.

"They're just so in sync." Pj noted, watching both Doctors synchronised movements.

"I know. David and Matt are just so awesome. David's definitely my favourite."

"No way, Christopher was better, and Tom Baker was better than him."

They did this a lot, fight over which Doctor was the best. It changed each time, Chris' preferred Time Lord in one fight becoming Pj's in the next, and vice versa.

"You do know they're all the _same_ Doctor, technically." Dan had pointed out once, when said fight had happened at his and Phil's house.

Chris and Pj both knew he was right, of course. But they both found a slight thrill in disagreeing with each other.

"I'm going to get another drink and then we can start on the 11TH Doctor; do you want one?" Pj asked, standing up and stretching.

"Uh, yeah please."

"Diet?"

"Always." Pj grinned and walked off into the kitchen, and Chris let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

The rain was falling hard outside, the thunder wasn't loud but Chris still felt nervous. He was hoping it wouldn't get worse, anxiety attacks in your best friends/crush's house didn't sound like too much fun to him.

Just then, lightning struck, a loud boom coming with it. The room lit up with the bright white light, and Chris nearly jumped out of his skin.

When Pj walked back into the room, two diet coke cans in his hands, he halted at the sight before him. Chris was curled up on the couch legs pulled up, arms wrapped around them, his head resting upon his knees; and he was shaking.

"Chris? Chris, are you alright?!" He ran over to the shaking boy, quickly placing the cans down and gently resting his hand on Chris' shoulders.

Chris lifted his head up. There was concern and worry in Pj's eyes, and he only realised then that he was shaking. He turned his eyes down, too ashamed to look at Pj anymore. He didn't want to see the disappointment he was sure to find in the green orbs.

"Ah, yeah. I'll, uh, I'll be fine."

"Why are you shaking?"

"It's, it's nothing." He tried to calm himself down, willing the shakes to stop, the attack to finish so he could continue watching TV with Pj, so Pj would forget it happened and still be his friend.

"It doesn't seem like nothing, you're shaking like you've been outside in a blizzard for 3 hours, never mind the fact you're as white as a sheet. Now, tell me why on earth you are shaking and don't you dare lie to me."

"It's, it's the storm. There's rain, which isn't too bad except it's falling really heavily, and there's lightning and thunder, and it's really loud. And I know it's kind of childish and silly but I can't help it and I'm really sorry. I'm ruining everything for you; we were having so much fun..."

"Chris, it's okay." Chris looked up at him, tears streaking down his scared face.

"You're not...disappointed, or embarrassed?"

"No, not at all. Everyone's scared of something; I'm scared of being alone."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I know it seems silly, everyone needs time for themselves, but if I'm alone for extended periods of time I get nervous, and start imagining what could happen because I was alone. Fears aren't something to be ashamed of."

"But storms? It's such a silly fear, there's no logical reason that anything to do with storms could hurt me, except for maybe lightning but the odds are low."

"That's why they're called phobias. Irrational fears that seem silly or strange to others, and sometimes to ourselves, but in our minds they still scare us."

"It's been like this since I was 5. I should be over it by now."

"You don't need to be _over_ anything." Pj stood up, a bright grin on his face.

"I have the best idea. When I was younger, I used to be afraid of monsters. You know, monsters in the closet, under the bed, etc. Whenever I was scared my father and I used to make a fort out of the chairs and tables. We'd drape the duvets and blankets over it, and sleep under. Sometimes when I'm alone and I start to get frightened I do the same. It helps, because if I'm inside the covers nothing can get to me."

"You think, you think we should build a fort?"

"Sure, why not? Come on, it'll be fun. We can put Doctor Who on my laptop and watch it from there."

"You'd really do that, to help me out?"

"Of course." Pj reached out and helped Chris to his feet. They went to Pj's bedroom and collected his duvet and blankets, pillows and covers. They dragged them out to the lounge room and dumped them on the floor. Pj went to the kitchen and lugged some chairs back. The set the chairs so they were opposite each other. It looked like a chair diamond, as Chris pointed out. They both laughed, draping the blankets over the top. They pulled the chairs out so there was enough room for the both of them to fit, and put the pillows and duvet inside the bedding fort. Pj got his laptop and the Doctor Who DVD's, taking them inside the fort where Chris was waiting. He set the show up to play, and sat down, cross-legged. Chris sat next to him, aware of the limited distance between them.

"See, isn't this better? The storm can't get you here."

"Yeah, I am feeling a little bit better. Thank you, for everything."

"No problem. Now, back to the travelling alien and his blue box."

He pressed play, and they continued to watch. It was a good episode, one of Chris' favourites.

All was fine. Chris couldn't hear anything over the show and he couldn't see thanks to the fort. Add to that Pj's knees bumping against his own and he was the happiest he'd been all day.

He was concentrating, focusing on the tall bow-tie clad Gallifreyan and his travelling companions when a loud rumble was heard above them. It didn't stop, instead increasing in sound. Chris' heart was thumping in his chest, the thunder was all he could hear, and within a second he found himself on Pj's lap.

Chris hadn't _meant_ to jump on him, he didn't even realise he had until he didn't feel soft carpet underneath him, but instead a warm body.

"Oh, crap. Pj, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to jump on you. Just, hang on, I'll get off."

"No, it's, it's okay." Chris looked at Pj confused. Pj didn't say anything, instead of talking he placed his hands on Chris' hips, wiggling so Chris was situated comfortably on his lap.

"You're safer in my arms." Chris was silent. He'd never been this close to Pj before, not like this. Their breaths were mingling, Pj's hands burning through Chris' clothes. Pj's face was so close to Chris, their lips only inches away. Oh how Chris longed to lean close, to close the short distance and connect their lips.

Instead he focused on Pj's eyes, on the swirling mix of greens. On his eyelashes, dark, casting shadows on his cheeks. On his hair, the light brown curls that he so desperately wanted to run his hands through.

Pj's eyes flickered from Chris' eyes, to his lips and back again. It was a silent question, and Chris leaned forward, a silent invitation.

Pj closed the short distance between them, their lips uniting. Pj's lips were soft; Chris' held the faint taste of salt from his previous tears, with the hint of pizza. Pj pulled away, staring at Chris, waiting for a reaction.

"You're a really good kisser." Pj said, smiling softly.

"So are you."

"Chris. I think..." Pj shook his head.

"No, that's not right. I _know _that I really like you."

"I really like you too." Chris said.

"Do you think...could we, kiss...again?"

"I think that might be possible." Pj's smile grew, and Chris found he was smiling himself. They both leaned in close, meeting in the middle. There was no carefulness the second time, no awkwardness. They knew they both wanted it. Pj licked across Chris' bottom lip, and Chris opened slightly, allowing Pj to slide his tongue in. The kiss lasted longer, the only thoughts running through Chris' mind...

"_I'm kissing Pj. I am actually kissing Pj, right now, and he's kissing me back." _

When they pulled away this time, they were wearing matching grins, eyes shining.

"I don't think I'm scared anymore." Chris whispered.

"You're not?"

"No. Thank you."

"It's alright. I'm glad I could help."

"Do I have to be scared every time?"

"Not at all." Pj pecked Chris' lips.

"This fort was the best idea you've ever had."

They continued the night watching Doctor Who, pausing the DVD when they're eyelids started drooping and their minds wandering.

They went to sleep inside the fort; Chris snuggled up against Pj, the duvet covering them both.

Outside the rain was still pouring, the lightning cracked and the thunder boomed, but none of it bothered Chris. He was safe, inside his fort, with Pj's arm around his waist.

For the first time in years, Chris felt truly safe and happy.

**(Did anyone notice the SPN reference...?)**


	5. Kiss Me

***Sizzy***

**Song Fic based off Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran.**

**Disclaimer**

**I do not own Kiss Me; the song, all credit and lyrics belong to Ed Sheeran and related personnel. I do not gain any profit from this. **

**I do not own any characters in this related to Cassandra Clare, or The Mortal Instruments.**

**The Mortal Instruments characters belong to Cassandra Clare; I do not gain any profit from this. **

There was a knock on her door, a light tapping. She paused, waiting for Alec or Jace to walk in. She realised quickly that Jace wouldn't knock, and Alec had moved to Magnus' house; she was still trying to adjust to her brother's constant absence.

"Isabelle." A familiar voice leaked through the crack under her door. A voice so distinct she would recognise it anywhere, a voice she had feared she would never hear again for so long; belonging to someone she had been avoiding like the plague because she was frightened of her own feelings and what the person did to her.

She got up off her bed and cautiously walked to the door; bracing herself before opening it; revealing a tired, ragged, adorable boy.

"Simon, what are you doing here?" She asked, mentally scolding her heart for beating so fast.

"I was training with Jace, but we sort of ran over time. It's too late for me to go back home, I already told mum I wouldn't be back tonight...but I'm having trouble sleeping. I know this probably sounds really creepy; and I understand if you say no...But do you mind if I sleep in here tonight?"

"I don't mind...but I have to ask...why with me?"

"This sounds so silly, but one of the things I remembered first...and one of the things that keeps coming back frequently is how nice and warm your hugs were; how...comfortable..." He broke off, looking down at his feet. Isabelle thought she saw a blush...not that Simon would be blushing...

"Snuggling with you was always just really comfortable." He muttered.

She understood the blush now...and she found herself laughing.

"Simon, if you wanted to sleep with me you could've just said so." She sauntered to her bed, Simon stumbling and staggering behind her.

"I don't want to... I mean I do... but that's not what I was implying..."

"It's fine, I was joking. But keep in mind, this isn't a joke. The jeans need to go."

"What?" Simon did blush this time, and Isabelle tried hard not to laugh.

"Your jeans...need to go. I don't want you accidentally rubbing against me during the night, those things are horrible."

"But i don't have any pyjama pants..."

"Boxers are fine."

"How did you..."

"I don't think you want me to answer that." He nodded, gingerly taking his jeans off.

Isabelle shook her head once she found herself staring, and walked over to her closet. She started taking her own clothes off, putting on yoga pants and a loose tank top. She had just taken her shirt off and was about to put her tank on when she heard a soft thud. She turned, wearing only pants and her black bra, to find Simon sprawled on the floor next to her bed. He quickly picked himself up, his blush a furious crimson that had spread to his ears.

"Are you alright?" She asked, amusedly.

"Yeah, just...uh...tripped."

"Why was that?" She questioned, already suspecting the answer.

"I, I don't know."

"You weren't staring, were you?"

"What? No, I wasn't...ah, I wasn't staring." He turned away, and Isabelle just shrugged, slipping her tank on.

"I don't blame you. I stared."

"You did?"

"Yeah. I mean, you're pretty good looking. Maybe not as built as some other guys, but you're not ugly." She shrugged, closing the closet doors and walking over to her bed. She slipped under the covers. Simon stayed standing at the end of the bed, and Isabelle frowned.

"You're not a horse, you can't sleep upright."

"I know."

"So get in the bed. It's warmer anyway."

He looked hesitant, and Isabelle sighed; pulling the covers back.

"I don't bite." She said, smiling mischievously. "Much."

Simon still looked nervous, but he got on the bed, pulling the covers up over himself and Isabelle. She lay down, scooting down the bed until her head rested comfortably on the pillow. She leant over and turned the lamp of, basking the room in darkness. She could still see, and so could Simon; even without his glasses on the _runes_ still worked to provide sight.

_Settle down with me, cover me up..._

Isabelle laid there, the only sound to be heard Simon's slow, soft breathing. She couldn't sleep though; not when he was so close to her, close enough to touch.

_Cuddle me in, lie down with me..._

She turned on her side, facing away from Simon. If she couldn't feel him she didn't want to see him; to be reminded of the close proximity between them, only extending the distance from her heart to his.

_Hold me in your arms..._

Her thoughts went to memories. She remembered how it felt to lay on top of him, to hear his heart as it beat against her chest, her heart beating just as fast. She remembered how it felt to kiss him, how it felt when he kissed her neck, soft and lovely.

_Your heart's against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck..._

Isabelle shook her head. She was being silly, irrational. She didn't miss Simon, she didn't miss how it used to be; she didn't miss looking in his eyes and seeing all the love he held in them; not like it was now when she looked in his eyes and saw only a sad boy struggling to remember a life he used to live. She didn't miss him at all.

_I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet..._

Because missing that would mean she's in love, and she had promised herself she wouldn't fall in love. Because people in love only got hurt. It had happened to her mother, to Alec. And it had already happened to her once. She wasn't going to let it happen again. She wasn't still in love. She just needed to forget about Simon and what once was, what might have been.

_And with a feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now. _

She turned back around, frustrated with her inability to fall asleep.

When she turned around, however, she came face to face with Simon. Simon who was awake and currently staring at her.

"Isabelle." He whispered, as if talking loud would break the magical quiet of the room.

"Hm..." She replied, forsaking every chance of pretending she was asleep.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, concern lacing his voice, shown clearly in his eyes.

She nodded, attempting to reply; to say yes, she was fine, everything was fine; but she physically couldn't speak; the words just wouldn't come out.

"Isabelle...Isabelle what's wrong?"

She shook her head, surprised to find her cheeks wet with fallen tears.

Simon wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight as the tears fell faster.

"I'm sorry; it's not your fault." Isabelle said, once the tears had stopped falling.

"Why were you crying?" He asked, cautiously wiping her cheeks. His fingers felt soft, and she fought back more tears.

"It's nothing, it doesn't matter."

"It must matter, if you're crying. Was it me, did I do something wrong?" He asked.

"No, it's not you...not all you anyway. I just, I miss the way things used to be. I know it's not your fault, which is why I feel so bad, but I miss you. You're...different now. You're not the Simon I knew, the Simon I...love." She whispered the last part, hoping he didn't hear her. Unfortunately he did.

"You love me?" He asked. "Or, the old me." He added.

"I still love you, it's just been hard. We're trying to help you remember, and I know you're trying hard to remember; sometimes it feels like we're not getting anywhere. And you're always so close, I want to hug you, to kiss you so badly but I can't."

"Why not?" Simon asked.

Isabelle stared at him incredulously. Simon stroked her cheek, the tips of his fingers sending electric bolts through her skin. He leaned in towards her slowly, not that there was much distance between them, and connected their lips.

_Kiss me like you wanna be loved, you wanna be loved, you wanna be loved. _

Her eyelids fluttered closed, her hand flying instantly to his hip. He tasted like salt, but she supposed that was her tears. His lips were just as soft as she remembered, he still tasted the same. Like Simon. He was her Simon in every way, but he also wasn't.

Which is why she pulled away.

"Was that bad?" He asked.

"No, no it was wonderful."

_This feels like falling in love, falling in love, falling in love. _

"I'm not saying this just to kiss you again, but it brought back some memories. Not a lot, but I recall kissing you. Really, kissing you."

"It...Helped?"

"A bit, yeah. It's kind of weird, you know. Before my memories returned, I thought I knew what was happening. I had my whole life planned out, and being a shadowhunter, demons and downworlders; weren't part of it. And then you came along, and it's like everything changed. I didn't have much purpose before but now; now I want to protect you from the world, from everyone and everything that wants to hurt you. I feel like my sole duty is to hold you and keep you warm."

_I'll be your safety, you'll be my lady. I was made to keep your body warm... _

"The main, real reason I wanted to stay with you tonight was because I felt cold. The bed was cold, I was cold; but not like a normal frosty cold. I realise now it's because you weren't there. It was like a chill had settled over me, a cold wind hugging my body where you should have been."

_But I'm cold as the wind blows._

"Simon..."

"Please, there be still more I _need_ to say. I've had such a rush of feelings, a cocktail of emotions."

_Yeah I've been feeling everything from hate to love, from love to lust, from lust to truth._

"But now, thinking about it, without that I wouldn't have remembered you. Without the pull, the love for you I feel, I wouldn't have recognised you at all."

Her hand tightened on his hip, her fingers brushing against his warm skin. It felt strange to her, the heated skin evidence of the blood rushing through his body, something that hadn't happened when she had first fallen for him.

_I guess that's how I know you, so I hold you close..._

She didn't hesitate this time, closing the short distance between her and Simon, connecting their lips; eager and urgent to taste him, to kiss him, to show him how much she did love him.

And he kissed her back, taking in everything she was trying to say and trying to convey the message himself.

Because slowly, but surely, he could feel himself falling in love. Falling _back_ in love.

Because he had never stopped loving Isabelle Lightwood.


	6. Just A Kiss

***Kickthestickz***

**Song fic based off Just a Kiss by Lady Antebellum.**

**DISCLAIMER**

**I do not own Just A Kiss; the song, all credit and lyrics belong to Lady Antebellum and related personell. I do not gain any profit from this. **

**I also do not own Chris, Pj, Dan or Phil. They are their own people. I am not claiming this happened in real life. **

He was lying down on top of the hill, looking up at the sky. The stars were out, the moon at its brightest, and everything just felt peaceful and calm. He was alone with his thoughts, the whole world laid out beyond his feet. It was nice, but he felt kind of lonely.

"Could I, could I join you?" A voice sounded behind him, and he turned to face the speaker.

It was a boy, his age, with straight brown hair only a few shades lighter than his own. He recognised the boy, from school. They shared a few classes together, but neither had summoned the confidence to speak to the other, before now. His name was Chris.

"Sure." He patted the ground next to him, his hand coming away slightly damp from the wet grass.

"It's a bit damp, I hope that doesn't matter."

"It's just a bit of water, right? Never hurt anyone." The boy, Chris, sat down, his long legs stretching out before him.

Pj was about to protest, to tell him that some people had died from water, people who had drowned for instance, but thought better of it. There wasn't any point in saying so, people were always telling him he was arguing for the sake of it, and Chris was probably only making a joke anyway.

"So, what brings you out here, so late in the night?"

"Just thinking. It's quiet out here, certainly quieter than my house. Out here, I'm alone with my thoughts." He spread his arms out, gesturing to the space around them.

"What about you?"

"Similar reasons. Out here, I'm alone. I, uh, I don't always get along with my parents, sometimes it's better if I leave the house. I wasn't going to say anything, once I saw you. I assumed you were out here to be alone."

"So why did you?" Pj wasn't angry, he was just curious.

"Honestly, I don't really know. I just decided to come up and talk to you. I can leave if you want me to..."

"No, it's okay. Being alone is fine, but I wouldn't mind company."

He leant backward, propped up only by his elbows. Chris did the same, and they were silent, the only sounds that could be heard were the rustling of leaves. In the distance, an owl could be heard.

"We're in the same classes at school, aren't we?" Chris asked, eyes turned to the sky.

"Yes, a few. Why?"

"I was wondering where I had seen you. I don't think we've really had a conversation before. I've seen you hanging out with Dan Howell, and Phil Lester. Are they you're friends?"

"Kind of. They're nice, and we share some of the same interests. But we aren't really that close."

"I see."

"It's kind of hard when they're sucking each other's face off, though." Chris laughed, and Pj felt immense relief. Not only did Chris seem okay with his friends being gay, he wasn't making a joke, which means he's not homophobic. Pj might have a chance to make a new, maybe best friend.

"I can see how that would make things difficult. You can always hang out with me."

Realising what he had just said, Chris blushed, looking down at his knees.

"I mean, that's only if you want."

"Sure, I would love to." Chris turned to face Pj, and the smile he wore did something to Pj. It made him feel funny, in his stomach and in his heart. It wasn't a bad feeling, but it also wasn't something he'd ever really felt before; not like this, anyway.

"So, what do you like to do in your spare time?"

"Paint, draw, sketch, anything artistic really. I also like to sing sometimes, and I play guitar. And sometimes the ukulele."

"Wow. So you're quite the artiste, aren't you? The ukulele? That's impressive."

"Thank you. I suppose, I've kind of always enjoyed art; drawing and painting just come naturally. It's always been a way I can express my feelings. If I'm sad, or happy, or angry, I know I can always pick up a paintbrush or pencil and release everything. And I enjoy music; so learning to play the guitar just seemed right. After that, it wasn't hard to learn the ukulele. What about you; what do you do for fun?"

"I uh, god this sounds so weird."

"I'm sure it doesn't." Pj reached out to touch his shoulder, then pulled back. He didn't want to scare the boy away, not when he had a chance to make a new friend.

"Sometimes I film myself doing skits and sketches. I sort of fancy myself a comedian, I suppose. Comedy is my version of art, in a way. I can lose myself in the script; become a different person, even for a few minutes. I can leave this life behind and become part of another one."

"Seems we both have different ways of coping with life."

"Yeah."

Pj glanced over at him again. He could see the shine of an old bruise on his cheek, a small cut near his ear he hadn't noticed before. But, for some strange reason, Chris looked beautiful to him. His hazel eyes were shining in the dark, but in them he could see pain. He felt a need to console the boy, to wrap his arms around Chris' slender frame. He didn't of course. He didn't want to frighten him.

He tried not to look at Chris, tried not to notice how the light bounced off his hair, giving it a shine, a sort of glow. He tried not to think about how nice it would be to run his hands through the hair, how soft it looked. He tried not to stare at Chris' lips, how pink and perfectly kissable they looked; how badly he wanted to kiss the beautiful boy right next to him. He tried not to think about holding him in his arms, running his fingers across Chris' cheeks, his hands down Chris' back, his chest, his arms. Try, he did. But not successfully. And he wasn't too discrete about it.

_Lying here with you so close to me. _

"Um, Pj? Is there something on my face, why are you staring?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to stare. I, just, you're..." He took a deep breath, and plunged into the deep end.

"You're really cute, and I didn't mean to stare, so if I've scared you, I'm sorry. I'll just leave."

_It's hard to fight these feelings when it feels so hard to breathe._

"No, you don't need to leave, it's okay." He felt a hand on his arm, pulling him back. He turned to Chris, halfway between standing and sitting.

"Are you sure? If I made you uncomfortable..."

"No, really, it's fine. Please, sit down." Pj sat down, legs crossed, back straight, just in case he needed to make a quick escape.

"I, uh, I kind of, I think you're pretty cute to." Chris said to the ground. But Pj heard him perfectly.

'_He...did he just...he thinks I'm cute'_

"You do?"

"Uh, yeah." He looked up at Pj, and in his eyes Pj saw something, a spark. A spark of hope, perhaps, and that brought a smile to the young boy's lips.

"I'm glad you came up here, and I'm glad we're friends."

Chris smiled at Pj's words, and PJ felt his heart flutter. He was smitten, because of this adorable boy.

_I'm caught up in this moment, caught up in your smile._

"Pj, can I, tell you something?"

"Of course. You can tell me anything."

Pj waited, but Chris didn't say anything.

"Chris." He placed a hand on Chris' knee, lightly so Chris wouldn't be frightened, but enough pressure so he knew Pj was there.

"What's wrong?"

"I've...I've never told anyone; any boy I liked them."

"I see."

"I am gay, and I know that. I mean, I've known that for a long time now, but...the last time I told anyone...it didn't end very well."

Images sprang to Pj's mind. Seeing Chris at school, limping. Missing P.E or missing school, day after day. The hint of a bruise on his cheek, the cut by his ear. Not everything was as it seemed with Chris.

"Chris, is it okay if I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Is there any question you don't want me to ask?"

"N...no. I'll answer whatever question you have. That's what friends do, right? They're honest with each other; they tell each other things, share secrets."

_I've never opened up to anyone._

"Yes, have you had friends before?" He realised what he's said and how it had sounded after the words had left his mouth, and he covered his mouth with his hand; as if he was preventing himself from saying anything else he would later regret.

"It's okay. I have, in primary school. But when I left for high school, I left all my friends behind. It's not easy for me to make friends."

"Well, know you have one. Me." Pj smiled softly, a desire inside him to make Chris smile.

"I do, and I'm so thankful for that."

"Have you ever...have you ever been beaten?" The question had been burning in Pj's mind, and ever the inquisitive he had to ask.

Chris nodded, and Pj felt a pain, in his chest. The boy with the best smile before him wasn't smiling anymore, and that hurt. He reached a hand out to Chris' shoulder, a small attempt at comfort. Then the tears fell.

They fell hard, and they fell fast. Pj didn't have time to react before his shirt was being soaked with fresh tears, the pretty boy crying on his shoulder. Chris was gripping the back of Pj's shirt, the fabric in bundles.

Pj didn't know what to do; he froze for a split-second, before his hands found their way around Chris, holding him tight in his arms, as the tears kept falling. Pj rubbed circles into his back, soothing motions to calm him down.

"I'm sorry about that." Chris said when the tears stopped, hiccupping and spluttering, as he pulled away. Pj didn't let go, he simply loosened his hold, hands moving to rest cautiously at Chris' hips.

_It's hard to hold back, when I'm holding you in my arms._

"Don't be. Sometimes you just need to let it out, release all your feelings. It's not safe to keep everything bottled up."

"But is it always the best idea to 'release your feelings' over your new friend's shirt?"

"I can always wash it, it's no problem. I'm more worried about you now, how are you?" Pj hit his forehead, what was this boy doing to him? He was turning into a blundering fool, after only a couple of hours.

"Sorry, that's kind of a stupid question, isn't it?"

"No, I...you were right. I feel better now after crying. Thank you."

"Is there anything else you need to get of your chest?"

"I do want to tell you the whole story, one day, but do you think we could leave it for now?"

"Of course, yes. Whenever you feel ready. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I think I am. Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being here, caring about me. Letting me cry and dirty your shirt. No one's cared so much for me before."

"That's what friends are for, aren't they?" Pj gave a small wink, and was rewarded with the smile that brightened his mood and lifted his spirits.

"You have a really nice smile." He commented.

"No I don't. You, you have a nice smile."

"No, you do. When you smile, your whole face brightens up; your eyes gain a sort of...sparkle. You have a beautiful smile."

Chris leant forward, edging closer slowly, waiting for a response from Pj.

"Can I...can I kiss you?" He asked, pausing inches away from the calm green eyes and cerise lips.

"You can kiss me as long as I can kiss you back."

Chris leaned in, and Pj closed his eyes. It was everything he had been hoping for. But Chris pulled away far too quickly than Pj would have preferred.

_But we don't need to rush this, let's just take this slow..._

"I really want to kiss you more, but can we do it slowly? I'm new to this."

"To kissing boys or..."

"Kissing in general." A blush rose on his cheeks.

"You're doing pretty well." Pj leaned in, taking things slower. They moved at a leisurely pace, and after Chris had gotten more used to the movements, Pj licked his mouth, gently asking for entrance. Chris complied, and the sounds he made as Pj's tongue moved around his mouth were proof of Pj's kissing, though limited, expertise.

_Just a kiss, on your lips, in the moonlight. _

Chris hand's moved to wrap around Pj's neck, feeling through the curling ends of Pj's hair, and Pj's tightened on Chris' hips, sliding under his shirt to rest on the warm skin. He kissed along Chris' jaw and down his neck, sucking and nipping lightly just below his collarbone, where Chris could always hide it if he wanted. He rejoined his lips with Chris', and deepened their kiss. The moon was shining above them, bathing them both in a pure, white light.

_Just a touch of the fire burning so bright._

Pj felt a weird and wonderful feeling in his gut, a warmth spreading through his whole body, from his toes to his hands against Chris' body. But for Chris, the feeling was more like a fire. A convivial warmth, spreading out from his heart like wildfire, filling him with joy like he'd never felt before.

They pulled away, and Pj reached for Chris' hand, interlocking their fingers together, knees bumping together.

"That was...really nice." Chris said, flushed and slightly out of breath.

"You're a really great kisser."

"Thanks, you're not too bad yourself."

The silence stretched on, Pj too happy to break the silence, Chris too nervous.

Finally, he did. He had something to ask Pj, something important.

"Does this mean anything, to you..?"

"Yes, it means a lot. Why?"

"I've never kissed anyone before you, and I've never had a proper relationship, so I don't know the signs or the right things to do, or ask..."

"Are you saying you want to be in a relationship? With me?" Pj said, realisation setting in.

"Do you?"

"Yes. Yeah, I do."

"I do as well; I just had to check, to make sure you did."

"Why...I kissed you, why wouldn't I want to be with you?"

"I don't know, it's just..." Chris sniffled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Everything I've done in my life, I've managed to mess up in some way or another. I've managed to make everyone who's met me hate me for some reason, and I don't want that to happen with us. I don't want to lose you."

_I don't wanna mess this thing up..._

"You're not going to lose me, and you're not going to ruin this. It's not a one person relationship, if we do this; we become a couple, which means there's the both of us in the relationship. It would take both of us to wreck it. The only way you could do it by yourself is if you cheated on me or you hurt someone else I loved. Which I can't see you doing."

"There's no way I would do that...I could never!"

"I know, which is why there's no need for you to worry." Pj squeezed Chris' hands, rubbing his thumb in circles on the back of his hand.

"I'm sorry; I'm being silly, aren't I?"

"No, I can understand. It's perfectly normal for you to have doubts, or worry. And I'm here to assure you everything will be okay."

"I'm not the easiest person to be friends with, and I can't imagine I'm the best when it comes to relationships."

"So, it might take us some time, but that's okay. We can make this work, I promise."

"You would do that, for me? What if you find out I'm boring, or that you don't really like me, or that I'm just the worst boyfriend ever?"

"From what I've seen, you're none of those things. You're sweet, caring, cute, you care more about others than yourself, and you are very interesting to me. I'll admit I don't know you all that well, but I would like to."

"I'd like to get to know you, too."

_I know that if we give this, a little time; it'll only bring us closer to the love we wanna find._

They kissed again, slowly and sweetly, drinking in all the other had to offer.

"Uh, Pj, the last think I want to do is stop kissing you, trust me; but it's getting really late and if I'm not home by the time my father gets home." He shuddered. Pj didn't know if it was from the cold or something else, but he didn't want to find out.

"Yeah, my mum won't be too happy if I don't get enough sleep. We should organise something, are you busy this weekend?"

Chris was silent, thinking, and Pj started to get nervous. He didn't want to put pressure on Chris, they had only been dating a few hours, but he really liked him.

"No. My parents are going out of town, why?"

"Do you want to stay over at my house? You could come over Friday after school, and you wouldn't need to go home till Sunday. Or Monday if you want. We could play video games, watch movies..."

"Kiss?" Chris asked sheepishly.

"Without question. And if you are comfortable with it, you wouldn't need to sleep on the floor; you could sleep on my bed with me."

Chris thought about what it would be like. Playing video games on the floor, laughing when the other person lost' watching movies snuggled up with Pj, his head on Pj's shoulder. Kissing Pj, whenever he wanted to. Cuddling with Pj at night, arm around his waist.

"Sounds wonderful."

Pj stood up, reaching a hand to pull Chris up too.

_It's never felt so real; it's never felt so right._

"I'll see you tomorrow at school, right?" He asked, running a hand through his drying, wavy hair, green eyes sparkling.

"Yeah. I'll meet you at the gates."

"And then you can meet Dan and Phil."

"Sounds great."

"Can I...can I kiss you goodnight?" Chris nodded, biting his lip, and Pj smiled.

Pj put a hand on either side of Chris' face, pulling him closer as their lips connected. It wasn't a long kiss, but it was a good kiss, like all goodnight kisses should be. Neither wanted to leave, but both knew they had to.

"Would it be soppy if I said I will be dreaming about you tonight?"

"Not at all. Because I'll be dreaming of you."

Pj pecked Chris' lips quickly, before pulling away.

"We really should go, but I promise I will wait for you tomorrow."

_You should be in my dreams...tonight._

They walked off in opposite directions. When he got to the bottom of the hill, Pj turned around, and saw the boy with the soft hair and the sad eyes, the one with the beautiful smile that lifted Pj's spirits and warmed his heart.

He didn't know if it was love, at least not yet. Maybe it was, he'd heard stories of love at first sight, but he'd never believed it. What he knew for certain and didn't doubt for a second was he liked Chris, and he was hopelessly smitten, infatuated.

And there was nothing wrong with that, and everything right.


End file.
